


Paint me

by the_nita



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Drabble, F/M, still rusty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-22 20:54:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/614226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_nita/pseuds/the_nita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for an Ask Box meme over on Tumblr with the prompt "Paint Me". For asgardianangelo. Sidhera is always my muse for writing Clintasha but none of this has been beta'd so all the mistakes are my own.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Paint me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an Ask Box meme over on Tumblr with the prompt "Paint Me". For asgardianangelo. Sidhera is always my muse for writing Clintasha but none of this has been beta'd so all the mistakes are my own.

“You know I feel stupid, right?”

“Shut up, Barton. Just hold still. I need to practice.”

Natasha’s next mark was an art collector. She was going to be going in as a rising star in the art world, specializing in male nudes. All the intel SHIELD had gathered said this was the best possible approach to get close to Reid Gatta, art collector, minor billionaire and general asshole.

“Can we at least close the window? The breeze is getting a bit much.”

“Do you ever stop complaining?”

“Hey, sister, you stand here in the all together while your partner makes finger paintings of you and you shiver your ass off and see if you like it.”

“I’m Russian. I could be riddled with bullet holes and I’d still be more stoic than you.”

Clint rolled his eyes and when she glanced down at her canvas, rolled his shoulders. The breeze might be keeping some things from getting that way, but damn, his shoulders were getting stiff.

When she first asked him to pose for her, for practice, he grinned. Tasha wanted him to stand nude in front of her so she could stare at him for a long time? Hot damn, he was in.

No one told him that she was serious. That she would sit there painting picture after picture, had a stack of canvases and the only time she touched him was to readjust his posture or lift an arm (which she expected him to hold for hours on end).

He was a sniper and used to having to camp out for long periods of time waiting but this was becoming ridiculous.

“Nat?”

“Clint, please. I am almost done with this one and then we can take a break.”

He huffed. “Is it helping?”

She stared at him and then at her painting again for a moment, putting a few last touches on it.

“Fine. Come look. You tell me.”

He sighed with relief, dropping himself in half to let his poor abused back stretch out. Straightening as he swiveled his head, hearing a couple vertebrae pop back into place. Cracked his knuckles and walked over to where she sat.

“So lemme see.”

She shifted the canvas to face him. It was incredible. She had caught the lines of his body as if he expected to see himself walk away. He recognized the tension in his muscles, the ones that had been griping at him moments before. The light surrounded him but he both glowed with it and seemed to disappear from it – absorbed it into his body.

“Tash, that’s amazing. You paint too?”

She smiled softly. “Well, an artist is only as good as her muse.”

He grabbed her hands, guiding the painting back to the easel. He drew her up against him, wrapping his arms around her waist and tipping his head down to catch her lips in a kiss.

“Muse, hmm? If we’re done here for a while, let me see if I can inspire you other ways.”

Her grin was as brilliant as it was tiny.

“We can be done. For now.”


End file.
